


carrying the weight together

by teenageraccoon



Series: this time-bound conscience [7]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Chronic Pain, Domestic, Food Issues, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Panic Attacks, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Recovery, Separation Anxiety, Smut, due to bucky’s body being used as a murder weapon for seventy years
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-29
Updated: 2020-02-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:35:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22952668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teenageraccoon/pseuds/teenageraccoon
Summary: So maybe Bucky’s a little clingy, maybe the separation anxiety is worse today than it is usually. That’s fine, they can handle clingy. No big deal.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Series: this time-bound conscience [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1517654
Comments: 3
Kudos: 144





	carrying the weight together

Bucky’s already awake when Steve wakes up, which is not unusual. Bucky’s pretty much always awake before Steve, because most nights he gets at least a few hours of sleep before he wakes up and drags himself into the living room to occupy himself on the laptop. He’ll still sit watch on the floor of the bedroom some nights, but that’s becoming less and less frequent, which Steve’s pretty sure is a good thing.

What is unusual about this particular instance is that Bucky is still laying next to Steve in bed. It might have to do with the fact that Alpine is curled up on his shoulder and she’sstill out cold, but he knows Bucky’ll move the cat if he wants to get up. Bucky is watching him and looking vaguely expectant.

“Hi Buck,” Steve says, voice muddled with sleep. “Sleep okay?”

“Mm,” Bucky responds, which could be interpreted as anything. Steve chooses not to interpret it just yet and he finds Bucky’s hand with his to squeeze once. Bucky squeezes back before he lets go. Steve rubs at his eyes, then pushes his hand through his hair in an attempt to tame his inevitable bedhead.

“Hungry?”

“I guess,” Bucky says, which Steve knows to be as close to a yes as he’s going to get. He sits up and Bucky mirrors him.

“I’m going to brush my teeth, want to make coffee?” Bucky makes another noncommittal noise—this one Steve chooses to interpret as agreement—and moves the cat to get out of bed, but doesn’t step away from the side until Steve does.

Over the running faucet, he hears the gurgle of the coffee maker and Bucky talking to Alpine in mock-irritable Russian. “Move, whiny idiot,” he says, “stop complaining. I’m not feeding you if you don’t shut it.” Steve smiles with a mouthful of toothpaste and spits.

Bucky does, in fact, feed Alpine. Bucky’s not going to follow through on any of his threats to the cat and Steve knows it, but there’s no point in calling his bluff; Bucky knows it too, and it’s not like the little cat can comprehend what her human is saying.

Steve makes eggs for himself and gets out the sourdough so Bucky can make toast because he knows full well that Bucky won’t get it out for himself, still not eating when it can be avoided. Bucky glowers at him but puts the bread in the toaster, then moves to stand next to Steve while he waits.

Steve’s hand finds Bucky’s again and squeezes. Bucky squeezes back for a second time. Steve leans over and kisses the side of his head because there’s no reason not to, and because it gets Bucky to roll his eyes and go, “Don’t go getting hysterical on me at fucking seven am, Steve.” Steve lets out a snort of laughter.

Steve sits on the couch to eat, balancing his plate on the arm even though he knows it’s ill advised. Bucky gives his plate a hateful look and follows Steve, sitting down on the floor next to him and glaring at his toast like it’s wronged him personally.

He eats along with Steve, though, and after only one little nudge at his side from Steve’s foot. He doesn’t move afterwards; Alpine wanders over when she’s done devouring the cat kibble and butts her head against Bucky’s hip and climbs into his lap to purr herself back to sleep.

Bucky’s leaning his weight into Steve’s leg slightly. Steve suspects that Bucky isn’t even aware of it and he’s not going to point it out. If Bucky is comfortable, that’s good enough for him.

He taps at his phone for a little bit, opening a few emails that aren’t critically important and then scrolling through the Instagram feed that he hasn’t checked in a few days. There’s never anything important there, but it’s an interesting enough app, so he hasn’t deleted it yet.

At ten to eight, he leans over to kiss Bucky’s head again and says, “I’m going to take a shower, be back in a few minutes.” Bucky hums in acknowledgment and Steve gets up.

He’s been standing under the spray of hot water for no more than a minute when Bucky joins him. He flinches visibly when the water first hits him and Steve sets a hand on his shoulder carefully, a little taken aback by his presence but not complaining. Steve shifts, maneuvering them in the space of the bathtub, until his back his is to the shower head and Bucky’s opposite him facing it.

“All good?”

“Fuck, whatever,” Bucky responds. He reaches out and sets his hand against Steve’s face, running his thumb over Steve’s jaw, before he surges forward to kiss him. Steve, thrown a little bit off balance, braces them against the shower wall as he kisses back. Bucky’s right hand tangles in the nape of Steve’s hair, the left coming to rest on his hip, and when Steve startles a little at the sudden sensation of metal on flesh, he quickly lays his hand over Bucky’s to keep him from pulling away.

It ends up being Steve on his knees with Bucky against the shower wall. The porcelain is hard on his knees but he’s paying far more attention to Bucky, the way his breathing wavers when Steve wraps his lips around Bucky’s cock and the way Bucky tightens his grip in Steve’s hair when he swipes his tongue over the tip and the way Bucky gasps out, “ _fuck_ , Steve,” when he takes Bucky all the way down and swallows around him. Steve looks up at Bucky the best he can with his head mostly immobilized and Bucky meets his eyes, then shuts them and swears again. “Steve, I’m gonna—” he warns. Steve pulls off, jacking him off while he works a hickey into Bucky’s hip.

Bucky comes with a moan and immediately tugs Steve up and into a kiss, wrapping his arms around Steve’s waist.

“Good?” Steve asks again when he finally pulls away from Bucky’s lips, panting a little again.

“No, I hated it,” Bucky deadpans. He shoves at Steve’s head jokingly. “You want me to help you out there?”

“I don’t need anything,” Steve says.

“Yeah, you and your fuckin’ noble ass. You want the handjob or not?” Steve laughs.

“Well, when you’re so charming about it,” he says. Bucky rolls his eyes.

“That's the last time I offer to get you off, punk, fuckin’ _watch me_.”

“That’d be a much more effective threat if you didn’t have your hand on my dick, Buck.”

“Shut up,” Bucky says, and makes him. He finds a rhythm quickly, jacking Steve off with a sure and steady pace that leaves Steve breathless. He’s aware, vaguely, that he keeps moaning into Bucky’s mouth as they kiss, but he’s far more aware of the intense feeling on his cock. Bucky’s pace is unwavering and it doesn’t take much for Steve to get close. He comes without warning, spilling over Bucky’s hand to wash away with the water from shower.

He kisses Bucky more gently now, licking into his mouth and grazing his teeth against Bucky’s lower lip. “Thank you,” he says. Bucky grins. “Figure we should actually shower. Come here, I'll get your hair.” Bucky’s smile fades but he lets Steve move him back towards the water. He doesn’t flinch going under it again, Steve notices, which is a good thing. He makes quick work of shampooing Bucky’s hair, being exceedingly careful to keep the water off of his face, and then moves onto shampooing himself when Bucky steps out.

He leaves the shower curtain half open so Steve can still see him as he towels off and then sits on the toilet lid. He’s unsure whether it’s intentional or not. Bucky’s not paying attention to Steve at all and instead is pretty focused on staring at, or maybe through, a wall tile. Steve guesses the chances of Bucky forgetting to pull it closed versus leaving it so he could still see Steve are fifty-fifty.

The bathroom is, realistically, too small for both of them to be in at once, but Bucky’s easy to work around while Steve dries himself off and wraps the towel around his waist, then shaves. Bucky doesn’t move once while he does. Steve stretches his leg out to nudge at Bucky’s while he finishes wiping off the last of the shaving cream.

“You good, Buck?” Bucky’s stare remains distant for a minute before he seems to drag himself back to the present.

“Yeah,” he says. “Yeah, ‘m good, sorry. What’d you say?”

“Nothing,” Steve says, “just asked.” He doesn’t say _you sure?_ because that’ll only serve to irritate Bucky. Instead, he says, “Come get dressed?” and Bucky stands, so Steve takes that as a yes.

The cat leaps at Bucky’s feet the second they’re out of the bathroom, like it’s been days since she’s seen him instead of a matter of minutes. Bucky nudges her out of the way and she meows indignantly.

There really is nothing Steve needs to do today, so he pulls on a nicer pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt. Bucky stands next to him the whole time and only gets dressed once Steve has. When he goes into the living room, Bucky follows closely and sits down on the floor next to Steve’s feet again.

Okay. So maybe Bucky’s a little clingy, maybe the separation anxiety is worse today than it is usually. That’s fine, they can handle clingy. No big deal.

It does mean that Bucky’s inward loathing might show up earlier than it does on any other day, but that’s okay. It’s not ideal, but they can handle that too.

Bucky leans his weight into Steve’s leg again and lets Steve card his fingers through Bucky’s hair. He seems a little zoned out, Steve thinks, but not like he’s dissociating, more like concentrating on the present is just more effort than he’s willing or able to invest right now. When Alpine comes over, she flops right over Bucky’s outstretched legs and starts to purr when he pets her.

Steve’s not sure how much time passes. He doesn’t mind; there’s no reason to do anything but sit there and play with Bucky’s hair while Bucky pets his cat. He asks Bucky to hand him the laptop at one point and catches a glimpse of the time while he clicks play in their Netflix queue. It’s just a little after ten, meaning they’ve been there for almost two hours.

Steve’s leg went numb a while ago from Bucky’s weight, but Bucky still seems to be comfortable and his head is resting on Steve’s leg, so he doesn’t move.

“That was an okay one,” Bucky mumbles after they finished the Explained episode on billionaires. “The animal one was better.” The next one is on cults and Steve curses himself a little when he sees that and realizes he didn’t think to look ahead. He stops the auto play and goes back to the homepage.

Bucky huffs.

“You don’t have to fucking protect me all the fucking time, Steve.”

“I know,” Steve says, because he does. “But it’s lunchtime.” Bucky gives him a look that very clearly shows that he’s not buying Steve’s excuse. Steve doesn’t mind. It’s not like he expected Bucky to believe it, but he wasn’t going to outright say that he doesn’t want to test Bucky’s stability with the world today by watching an in-depth explanation of cults.

“You and your fucking food,” Bucky grumbles. He nudges the mousepad on the laptop and leans in, then says, “the idiot doesn’t eat yet.” Alpine chirps, like she knows she’s the subject when Bucky says _idiot_.

“Okay,” Steve agrees easily. “So come up here for seven minutes, then you can go feed her.” Bucky moves onto the couch, which surprises Steve a little. “How’s your back?”

“Whatever,” Bucky says, “hurts. Not more than normal. ‘S fine.” Bucky’s pain has improved a lot since he got his arm fixed up, which Steve is unbelievably thankful for. He still dislikes the fact that he is, pretty much always, in a varying level of pain.

“Okay. Anything you want to do this afternoon?”

“Throw a party,” Bucky says. Steve messes up his hair just to be annoying.

“Okay, funny man,” he says, “so no?” Bucky shakes his head. “That’s good, too.” Bucky moves his hair back to where it was and then leans into Steve. Steve wraps his arm around his shoulder. “Doing good?”

“Yeah,” Bucky says, his voice suddenly and unexpectedly quiet. “Doing good.” He shifts a little and kisses Steve slow and deep.

“Come here,” he says after he lays back on the couch. Bucky does, their legs interlocking and his hand going to Bucky’s lower back while they continue to make out lazily. It’s nice, even with Bucky snorting and calling him easy when Steve whines a little.

Then the cat leaps onto Bucky’s back and meows loudly.

“Jesus fucking _Christ!_ ” says Bucky. Steve cracks up. Bucky sits up, straddling Steve, and picks up Alpine under her stomach. Her legs stick out comically. “I _fucking hate_ you,” he says, and holds her farther away when she reaches a paw towards his face. “Fucking _prick_ , I should’ve left you in that fucking alley. I will _return_ you to that fucking alley.”

Alpine meows indignantly. Bucky moves off of Steve’s lap and continues to stare intently at the cat in his hand.

Steve tries very hard to control his laughter.

“Okay,” he says when he’s finally breathing again. “Okay, I think it’s her food time now and you should eat too. Come on.” He stands up and waits for Bucky.

“I will give you to a shelter,” Bucky threatens, then drops Alpine and gets up. He levels a glare at the cat before going into the kitchen.

Bucky turns on the rice cooker and scoops in the water and rice, which is pretty standard of him, and exactly what Steve was expecting. He leans against the counter while Steve starts on a grilled cheese.

He turns off the heat and moves the pan even though his sandwich isn’t done yet. He can feel Bucky’s tenseness increasing and he’s running his hand back and forth along the collar of his shirt the way he does when he’s feeling choked.

“Bucky,” Steve says, taking a careful step in front of him. He reaches out to take Bucky’s hand away from his shirt because he knows for a fact that Bucky likes this one and is going to be mad if it ends up ripped. “What’s going on today?”

“Nothing,” Bucky snaps back, sounding frustrated. “I just– it’s nothing.”

“…Okay.” Steve’s pretty sure that it’s more ‘I don’t know’ than it is ‘nothing’, but he’s not going to argue it. “You seem anxious, is all. Wanna help if I can.” He rubs his thumb across the back of Bucky’s hand. Bucky shakes his head.

“It’s not– it’s nothing,” he repeats.

“Okay, Buck.” Steve reaches out, careful not to startle Bucky, and tucks his hair behind his ears. “Let’s just eat and go lay down for a bit, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Bucky sighs. “Fuck. Sure.” Steve decides to leave it there and turns back to making his sandwich. There’s a few minutes left on the rice cooker and there’s no point in moving.

Bucky scoops some into a bowl when it beeps and adds a spoon of peanut butter to the side. It’s a combination that Steve doesn’t understand; frankly, he suspects Bucky doesn’t actually like it but just considers it to be the least revolting option that keeps Steve from nagging him about protein or nutrients or anything else.

(He still is malnourished, Steve’s pretty sure, and he’s definitely still thinner than he should be, but both are less now than they used to be and Steve’ll take what he can get.)

Bucky eats standing up and glares at his food like it’s wronged him personally. Steve would normally sit down, but realizes as he goes to do so that he doesn’t really want to leave Bucky’s side. Bucky would follow if he did go sit, he doesn’t doubt, but there’s no real reason to. Steve doesn’t want to interrupt Bucky when he’s eating.

Bucky gets a little more than halfway through before he mutters, “Fuck this,” and empties the rest into the little compost container and sticks the bowl in the dishwasher. He stands there with a thousand-yard stare through the floor while Steve eats and jumps a little when Steve puts his hand on his shoulder.

“Just me,” Steve says out of habit. “You wanna feed your cat and go lay down?” Bucky sighs.

“Yeah.”

Alpine is as excited as ever about being fed and Bucky doesn’t pass up the opportunity to affectionately insult her. He winces when he stands and, surprisingly, doesn’t look at Steve before he goes into their bedroom.

He’s down to just a tank top and sweats when Steve enters a few seconds after.

“You want me to get the curtains?”

Bucky looks up as he pulls the blanket over him. “Yeah,” he says finally, “sure. Not like I fucking slept last night anyways, may as well try to now.” That explains the morning, Steve thinks as he draws the curtains. The room dims. It’s not dark, but he hopes it’ll make it a little easier for Bucky to sleep, or at least just rest.

“I fucking tweaked my back,” Bucky says. He rolls onto his stomach and slips his right arm under the pillow. His left stays closer to his side. “Feeding the stupid cat. And no, there’s nothing you can do.”

Steve lays down across from Bucky and kisses his head by way of answer. Bucky stares at him for a second, clearly thinking something, but his expression is indecipherable and he doesn’t voice his thoughts. He settles his head against the pillow and closes his eyes.

It takes a long time for him to lose some of the tension, and it’s not helped by the fact that his brain jerks him awake every time he seems close to properly drifting off. He manages eventually, and if there’s anything to be said for small favors, at least Bucky isn’t woken by a nightmare.

He wakes three hours later, give or take, with the grogginess that accompanies coming out from a deep sleep. His cat has been furiously grooming the back of his hand for the past five minutes. He seems calmer.

Steve doesn’t say anything. There’s not really any need to. Bucky’s awake but seems content to lay there, and he scratches at the cat’s head a little.

“Sorry I fucked your day up,” Bucky says finally. He doesn’t sound angry. Just exhausted, and maybe a little resentful.

“No,” Steve says instantly, “you didn’t. Not at all. Promise.”

“You should just put me out.” There’s no heat behind that either; it’s like Bucky’s saying it for routine’s sake, call and response. That doesn’t mean that Bucky doesn’t necessarily mean it or believe it, but at least he feels comfortable enough with the rhythm.

“It’s a no on that one too, Buck.”

“‘Course it is. Martyr.”

“Maybe, but only for you.”

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on tumblr [here](http://teenageraccoon.tumblr.com). Big thank you to [@cafelesbian](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cafelesbian) for being my cheerleader -- I appreciate you!! There will be a new chapter of [you've arrived at last](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21561175) very soon I promise. Writing is hard.  
> 


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